Page 30 of Mated By the Pack
“It is called The Aether,”the wolf growls, but I hear his voice in my head, instead of on the wind.“The place where all souls go, once they’re freed from their mortal shell.”
“What?” Panic rises in my throat. “I’m not… I’m not dead, am I?”
“No,”he whispers.“Far from it.”
The wolf begins to shift. His onyx fur radiates with light, glowing from within like embers stirring to life in a freshly stoked fire. It ripples across his body, shedding in waves of smoky brilliance as the beast dissolves into something else. Bones stretch, limbs lengthen, and what rises in his place is a man created in the same shadow and fire as the beast.
He’s tall. Towering. Nearly seven feet of raw power and muscle. His chest is broad and his skin glows faintly in the red, heated light. Midnight black hair spills down his back in loose waves, framing a face that is both beautiful and brutal, with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and eyes that burn gold and still do not blink.
I’ve seen plenty of nudity working at the Academic Medical Center. It’s not the sight of him that stuns me. It’s how I react to it. My breath catches in my throat. Not just from the sheer size of him, though it’s impossible not to notice the way he’s built. Powerful, sculpted, and utterly unashamed. A man as well-endowed as him would have caused more than one nurse to take a peek under the blanket, even if the supplements kept our libido from aching like it did before we found out we would never be Brides.
“Calla,” he whispers, my name like a sigh on his rough lips. “Even seeing you in The Aether, I feel an ache because I didn’t live long enough to claim you.”
“Were you… one of the buyers?” I question, trying to make sense of his words.
“No, but I heard the screams of the souls sent here by the one with the kiss of death,” he rasps. “Their memories now flow in The Aether, interwoven into the very fabric of creation, just like mine. Those that wanted you as a slave would have broken your body and shattered your spirit, but they would have never claimed you. Not like my brothers will.”
My skin pricks again. “No one will everclaimme,” I reply, stiffening my back and taking a step forward. I hold up my arm, showing him my bracelet. “Are you the one who has been doing this? The one who spoke to Frank through me?”
“The Tangle is an extension of The Aether,” he says. “A scar carved by souls too restless to move on. Echoes that never found peace or purpose. This is the first time we’ve spoken, Calla, but many voices scream from The Tangle. Most are never heard.”
“But I can hear them?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “Why?”
“So many questions,” he murmurs, his gold eyes flickering. “So little time.”
The haze dissolves around me like smoke caught in the wind, and I’m no longer standing on the scorched earth. I’m lying in The Tangle, dawn bleeding through the canopy above. We survived the night alone in The Tangle. Somehow. My dream—vision—whatever it was, it’s left me shaken. Almost breathless.
I rub the vine coiled into a braided bracelet on my wrist. I should be exhausted, but I’m not. I should be terrified—but that’s harder to admit, especially when the others are looking at me like I’m the one who’s going to get us through this. Like I’m the leader. I’m not. I don’t even know what is going on in my head.
“Nurse Calla.” Fiona’s voice trembles. “Um, something is happening with Nara. I can’t wake her up. There are red vines all around her, and they weren’t here last night.”
“What?” I snap out of my daze and rush to Nara’s side.
She’s still sleeping, curled in on herself, but now she’s surrounded by crimson vines. Thick and pulsing, vibrant and alive. I drop to my knees beside her and reach out, intending to tear them away, but the second my fingers touch them, tendrils spiral out from my bracelet. One reaches toward the crimson vine and gently brushes it. Another snakes to Nara’s ribs. A third wraps around the sharp curve of her cheekbone, like it’s tracing the damage.
“What in the world is happening?” Fiona squeaks, barely audible.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
I remember the dream. The man with the gold eyes and midnight hair. Many voices scream from The Tangle, but most are never heard. Is this one of them? Is The Tangle trying to help me again?
Clarity crashes into me like the lightning in the scorched sky I was underneath before I woke up.
“It’s medicine!” I breathe. “Tansy—go to the road. I saw some smooth rocks over there. Gather as many as you can carry.”
Tansy doesn’t question me. She just wipes her eyes and bolts toward the road.
As soon as I speak the words, the tendrils slip back into my bracelet, curling against my skin like they’re no longer needed.
“Do you recognize the red vines from the hospital?” Fiona asks timidly. “Or… or did your bracelet tell you?”
The truth would probably scare her, so I answer cautiously. No need to tell her The Tangle can talk. “The vine formed a key when we needed one. Now we need something to help Nara.”
Tansy returns with several smooth rocks. I sift through them quickly and choose two that are smooth, flat, and perfect for what I need. I break off a length of the crimson vine and press it between the stones, grinding it into a thick, blood-colored paste.
It pulses faintly when I touch it. No heat or sting. Just… life.
I test a drop on Nara’s skin and watch carefully as it glows faintly red and sinks beneath her flesh, staining it slightly. I wait. Oneminute. Then two. No reaction, just a steady glow and a soft twitch in Nara’s fingers.
